I'm not exactly sure what you mean, but going off the conversation...
When I have to be around other people I take in everything- peoples eyes, body language, gesturings.
Let's say, a person is limping. Are they in pain? Is it an old injury or something new? Have they just been standing for too long? Can I help in some way?
That information passes through my mind faster than I can completely (consciously) process it, most of the time. I, sometimes, have to pause and reflect on why I'm feeling a certain way. Using the example above: I'll start scanning an area for a chair for someone, then wonder why the heck I'm doing that lol. Then it hits me- the person and their limp and a compulsion to help.
But then "logic" kicks in. Maybe they've limped all their life. Perhaps they'd feel insulted if I said or did anything. And then I feel annoyed at my brain for giving me useless information lol So, unless there's an apparent need to act (a kid's about to walk in front of a car), then I just brush the info aside and try to forget about it.
I do the same thing when driving: a car was going almost 90mph but has slowed down a great deal. Does he have a radar detector? Is there a cop or an accident in front of him? Is he texting or playing with the radio? And what about that idiot who just swerved onto the berm and the other guy who's tailgating me?
It's exhausting.
As for Peter Deadpan's post, that used to be me so hard core. I would spend HOURS in "daydreams". In one of them, I drove off a hillside during a snow storm. I was injured and had amnesia (of course

). I walked and walked through a blizzard until I stumbled across a cave. I had to warm up and treat my injuries using only the stuff in my fanny pack and jacket. What would I use? I pass out from the pain and shock and weeks pass and I still have no memory. Thankfully, there was a natural spring inside the cave. Unfortunately, the opening was too narrow and I got snowed in. Okay... how would I solve that problem? What could I make to keep it from happening again?
The story just kept growing and growing- how I could hunt and treat/store the kills. How does one make a primitive smokehouse?
Then, a guy showed up. A hunter. I was raped and became pregnant. (I killed him, of course, and made a daring get away.)
But now, how do I take care of a baby in these conditions? Twins? Are you kidding me, imagination?!
For a couple of years, or so, I built on to the story until:
One day, I get brave and leave the place I called home. I had adopted someone's horse and a stray dog over the years. I used those to transport the kids and all the stuff I had made (for trading). I got to a town and as I was leaving, someone said (to another person): "That poor lady. No one knows who she is, but she comes here from time to time. She thinks she has a son and daughter, but there's never anyone with her."
So yeah... surreal and apocalyptic summed up my musings quite well.
I finally figured out I was having them to begin with because I was frightened of the drive I had to take from town to our country house. I lived there, of and on, for a few years and was especially nervous during Winter. It was a coping mechanism as well as a way to kill time during long drives. People ask, "well, how bad could it be" (referring to anything and everything). I tend to imagine just how terrible things CAN go and what I could do to fix/change/survive it. Doing so actually makes me feel better lol.